New Neighbours
by Morelenmir
Summary: The Doctor, Rose and Jack find themselves in Bristol, 2009, and meet up with some of the more unusual inhabitants. George, Annie and Mitchell have reason to suspect their new "neighbours" are not as normal as they might seem.
1. Why is there always rain?

Disclaimer: Being Human belongs to the remarkable Toby Whithouse and Doctor Who unfortunately belongs to Auntie Beeb, so George and the Ninth Doctor are sadly not mine.

Being Human is about flatmates Annie (a ghost), George (a werewolf), and Mitchell (a vampire) and their journey to find humanity and fit back in to the "normal" world. Doctor Who is about the time traveling alien known as the Doctor and his various companions; who all travel madcap about the universe to see its motley wonders and also horrors.

Set after Being Human: 1x03 and Doctor Who: 1x10 (The Doctor Dances).

I'm going to update once a week, so keep your eyes peeled and I shall type madly away!

* * *

The TARDIS solidified in a dank alleyway with her familiar, unearthly vwoorp and her door burst open moments later, three people laughingly colliding in the doorway in their excited efforts to get out.

"Oi, be nice to the superior alien!"

"What, you or me?" Rose laughed at his mock-indignant outcry.

Jack pouted, "Don't I get included in the superior alien category?"

"Not a chance," Rose smirked, "Alien yes, superior definitely not."

"Come on, you two; explorin' to do," the Doctor commanded, already striding purposefully away down the alley to the street. Jack and Rose followed, the former still complaining about his secondary status.

"All I'm saying is--"

"Jack, you don't get to say anything. Not after last week."

"That wasn't my fault! Well, maybe a teeny bit, but how was I to know that-- Hey! No distracting here! Anyway," he emphasized with a glare at the giggling teenager, "All I'm saying is how come Sir Big-Ears is superior to my obviously much more flattering physique?"

"Honestly?"

Jack nodded eagerly.

"It _is_ because of the ears."

Leaving an indignant and snorting Jack behind, Rose ran to catch up with the Doctor. "So, where are we?"

"Bristol," he replied, not breaking his long stride.

"Oh," she said slowly. "When?"

"Present-day Bristol; that is, the year 2009."

Rose's "Why" came simultaneous with Jack's "What's so special about that?"

"Because," the Doctor said melodramatically, pausing and holding up his hands for effect, "The TARDIS sent us here."

"Okay…"

"Either that or she malfunctioned again," he continued cheerfully and set off up the quiet neighbourhood street. His companions groaned and chased after him again.

* * *

"So, what're you going to do now?"

"Oh, I don't know, George, how about rip Owen's filthy spleen out?!"

"Annie!" George yelped at her vehement retort. "I know he killed you and all, but I don't think that revenge should be killing him too." He reached over the coffee table and tried to grasp her arm sympathetically, but she jerked it away. He sighed. _I seem to be sighing a lot lately_.

_Ding dong_.

Both paranormal beings jumped in surprise. "Who…who on earth could that be?" George spluttered, his voice cracking.

Annie rolled her eyes. "Whoever is at the door, George." Her voice dripped sarcasm which was utterly lost on the neurotic man. She rose from the couch to peek out the window, barely parting the curtains to catch a glimpse of their sudden visitors.

"Annie!" he squeaked, hurrying to her side to pull her away from the glass, "Annie, don't go to the window. You never know if someone might see you!" He flailed his left arm dramatically in the general direction of the World Out There. In his agitated state, he didn't hear the voices outside conferring, let alone notice Annie shaking her head exasperatedly.

"Um, hello? Ghost here?" she said, waving her hand. George pursed his lips unhappily, but refrained from speaking. "Now go and get the door."

"Alright, but you stay in the kitchen!" he ordered nervously, pointing firmly to the beaded doorway to said room. "Normal, completely normal," he muttered to himself. "Normal normal normal. There is nothing weird here. Nothing at all." He clenched his fists and relaxed them, standing before the front door. "Yes…"

_Ding dong_. "Oh God."

He grabbed the handle, flipped the latch and yanked the door open before his common sense could stop him. "Oh."

"Hello!" a distinctly Northern voice rang out, accompanied by an impossibly wide grin. "I'm the Doctor."

* * *

tbc


	2. Why are aliens so infuriating?

'Kay guys, don't kill me. *hiding behind a convenient tree* Updates...did not happen as swiftly as promised. I blame Children of Earth, the last Doctor Who specials, and Being Human season 2 for killing my creativity. It's taken a long time to rediscover my (alas) murdered muse. I can't thank all of you wonderful people who reviewed and put this on alert enough. You've encouraged me hugely and I love y'all.

Onwards!

* * *

"Hey Doc, what exactly are we doing?" Jack puffed, jumping over a tipped rubbish bin and wrinkling his nose at its putrid reek. "I mean, not that I don't mind rain and all, but England again?" he continued, trying to catch up to the Doctor's unoccupied side. Unseen by the good-natured complainer, Rose rolled her eyes unsympathetically.

After a moment of yet-again-the-Doctor-didn't-answer, curiousity got the better of the young woman and she asked, "Well?"

"Well what?" The Doctor grinned in response to her pouting glare. "_Well_, something must be goin' on here; otherwise we'd be somewhere else."

"Barcelona," Rose coughed under her breath.

"No interjecting," he commanded. "Didn't your mum ever tell you that was rude?" The blonde gave him a highly significant look. "Right…"

Jack leaned around the Doctor in time to Rose's expression. "Who's indignant now?" he laughed.

She hit him sharply on his left arm. "Oh, _you_."

"All the time, sweetheart." Blue eyes sparkled with a generous helping of mischief as he leaned closer to the girl.

"Gah!" Rose turned from the flirtatious Captain to notice that the Doctor was no longer with them. "Doctor?"

The alien in question was standing stock-still on the walk several paces back, staring at a mostly respectable flat on the other side of the street.

"Doctor?" Jack and Rose exchanged looks and walked quickly to him, automatically falling into flanking positions on either side of his familiar leather jacket. Casing the small building with a sharp, observant eye, Jack pressed in a low voice, "What is it?" For a change his tone was serious.

The Doctor's only response was a musing "Hmm." Seemingly not noticing the intent gazes of his companions, he struck out across the road abruptly, heading for the flat with his usual purposeful stride.

"Wha-" Rose cut herself off and dashed after the Doctor, shaking her head on the way.

The alien reached the door before Jack and Rose and rang the bell. Crossing his arms, he looked at his humans with a pleased expression.

"Did you see that?"

"See what?" Rose flicked her loose blond hair out of her eyes, curiously studying the window that had apparently caught the Doctor's attention. No mysteriously fluttering curtains or eyes peeking above the sill. Not even a cat. Looked fairly normal, really.

He glanced at their attentive faces. "Oh, you didn't? Must be the ape in you." The Doctor flicked a long arm out to press the button again, cheerfully ignoring Rose's exasperated huff.

Jack opened his mouth to say something about how the notable difference in when Rose and he were from effected their perceptions differently when the door opened wide abruptly, revealing an attractive man in spectacles—Jack's weakness for glasses promptly made itself known in a blindingly handsome smile.

* * *

George closed the door back to a slit reflexively. "Er, hello," He parroted, standing bulkily in the barely open door and staring at the cheerful trio on his step.

"I'm Rose," the short, perky blond to the Doctor's right offered with a friendly smile to match the Doctor's.

"And I'm Captain Jack Harkness," said the dark-haired man on the left, a broad and leeringly toothy smile fixed on his classic movie star face.

In unison the other two said warningly, "Jack," not looking at him.

"Wha…I was only-"

"That _is_ flirting," they interrupted shortly.

"Leave the poor man alone," Rose chided.

"If you say so, Rosie," Jack shrugged, causing steam to all but erupt out her ears.

She opened her mouth to deliver a no doubt scathing retort when George interrupted, "'Scuse me, 'scuse me, but…who exactly are you?"

"Oh, new neighbours. Just moved in down the street 'round the corner," the Doctor said cheerfully, jerking a thumb in the direction they had come from. "Small, blue, easy to miss if you're not looking for it."

Rose's jaw snapped back into place after the Doctor's elbow dug meaningfully into her side and hastily slapped an agreeable smile onto her face. "Yep, already got it decorated and all."

Catching on quickly, Jack put in, "Surprisingly roomy," with a minute grin directed at the Doctor.

"Oh. All right then," George said slowly with a wary nod.

"Just thought we'd come 'round and meet all the neighbours," the Doctor explained. He held out a long-fingered hand to George who was still holding the door tightly. "Nice to meet you."

"Ah…yes. Uhm, you too." He awkwardly fumbled with the wooden frame for a moment and then took the Doctor's hand, shaking it once. George had a surprisingly firm grip, given his nervous appearance, and the Doctor responded with an equally strong handshake.

"Pleasure."

"Oh! Where are my manners," George chided himself, his voice pitching up. Rose giggled—_very_ quietly—as George flapped his hands at the small group. "Come in, come in." He opened the door all the way, ushering them into a sparse yet comfortable living room. "Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, Lager?" He stopped himself mid-babble, remembering that they still didn't know his name. "Oh I'm sorry, I'm George Sands."

"That's a lovely name." Rose smiled up at him from where she was leaning against the couch's arm.

"Thank you. Always hated it when I was little, though," he continued with a deprecating shrug. A slightly longer pause than necessary stretched and George twitched. _Oops. Normal._ "Right, so what I can get you?"

"Tea would be heaven," Rose said.

"Same here, George," Jack said, flopping easily onto the couch and almost tipping Rose from her perch on its arm.

George nodded and looked at the Doctor, who was standing just inside the living room. "None for me, thanks," he said.

"Right. Well, let me just put a kettle on," George said and made for the kitchen, small and on the opposite side of the front hall.

Instantly Rose and Jack pinned the Doctor with their gazes. "Spill," Rose said. He grinned and lifted a shoulder in a lopsided shrug.

_Not yet._


	3. Why can't we see?

It is Friday. I celebrate with another chapter. And Mitchell. I love all you guys who are still reading this - your perseverance is applaudable and it's like chocolate fuel to me.

I have also conquered NaNoWriMo, people. It was my first time doing it and I wrote fanfiction. Does this make me a bad person? Anyway, it means that you'll see it when I've got it all cleaned up and this story finished. *excited*

* * *

Annie followed George to the kitchen, all but vibrating gleefully. "Oh my God," she said, excitedly emphasising each word. "Drop dead gorgeous _and_ American." She continued to coo over the flirtatious man and George sighed over how predictable she was, yet inwardly grateful that she had momentarily forgotten about her murderer of a fiancé. He set the kettle on and began to pull out various teas from the cupboard to the background soundtrack of Annie happily carrying on about the strangers.

"And the girl, what's-her-name-Rose, _ugh_. She really needs to give her hair a do over, I mean, her roots are showing _dreadfully_. Don't they have at least one proper salon in London?" She stepped to her left to allow George to grab a mug from the sink and rinse it out. "It's enough to make my own hair hurt just looking at it. Oh, and the Northern bloke, who was he? What's the doctor's name, George?"

He blinked, trying to rerun the last few seconds of one-sided flowing babble. "Ah…the doctor. Um, well..."

"You don't know who he is?" she said curiously, eyeing her cautious-to-a-fault flatmate.

"The Doctor, that's all he said," George said, slightly helpless. "Just the Doctor." Annie whirled about and peered suspiciously through the inset kitchen window at the three people occupying their living room.

"Right then," she said firmly, "recon."

"What…Annie, no, wait!" George hissed, unable to stop her from marching confidently out of the small room. He pressed his head against the cool surface of the refrigerator with a muffled groan and closed his eyes in frustration. It's an exercise in futility to stop Annie from doing something she's decided to do, he told himself, and her being a ghost and all doesn't help any.

Shoving away from the fridge, he turned back to the teas and surveyed them critically. "Which ones would they like?" he mused quietly and settled down to preparing the hot drinks.

* * *

Jack heard George muttering in the kitchen and his ears pricked curiously; either George was used to talking to himself or there was another person in there with him. From what Jack could make out, it sounded like a conversation with one person on mute.

He was about to shoot the Doctor a subtle inquiry, see if it wasn't just him catching the eccentric young man's supposed conversation, when the Doctor shifted. It was small, his left shoulder dipping two centimetres and half-lidded eyes sliding to a spot in the entryway off his lowered shoulder, close-shorn head barely tilted languidly away to his right.

Jack had keen ears, but the Doctor had apparently caught something he hadn't. He swallowed back what he was going to say and watched the lanky alien, aware of Rose rising from beside him on the sofa to look closer at the wooden case filled with books standing in a corner of the modest room. The Doctor shifted again, head ticking minutely to the left as the unseen source of his interest moving from beside him to a point close behind Rose, running her fingers over books, and then his light blue gaze turned to the sofa arm Jack was leaning against.

His eyes flickered to Jack's and the Captain asked _Should I look?_ with a blink, indicating the sofa arm he had propped himself comfortably against. The Doctor's eyes narrowed a tiny bit for a second and Jack didn't turn, knowing that the tall alien would tell him what was so intriguing later. Hopefully. It was hard to tell at times what he'd do, Jack mused, a grin aimed into the unfilled space before him.

Rose exclaimed over a familiar title and Jack's attention focussed on her smile as she turned, holding a dog-eared children's book.

* * *

Annie huffed when the American's head turned away from her; she could stare at his absolutely stunning face all day, all blue eyes, ravishing smile and glossy black hair. If American men in general looked as delicious as Captain Jack Harkness, Bristol wouldn't be able to hold her. Well, it wouldn't have been able to hold her, Annie remanded, a wistful expression floating across her face. She didn't exactly have the widest range of choices in places to go.

"Hey, my mum read me this when I was a kid," Rose said happily, her sunny smile all but blinding the ghost perched on the arm of the sofa in Rose's former spot. She held up a small, floppy book and said fondly, "I haven't seen this book in years—I think we lost it in a move. It was my favourite story."

"It was mine too," Annie said, a similar faraway gaze in her eyes, remembering her mother's voice lilting over the words while young Annie eagerly turned the pages. Rose crossed the room to return to her elected seat and Annie quickly moved. It wasn't like the blond girl would have bumped her, but it was nothing short of awkward and really weird for someone to walk _through_ you.

She drifted back to stand next to the lanky doctor, all ears, short, short hair, and leather coat. She watched him watch the younger two on the couch, Rose gently flipping through the pages and reminiscing on the Captain's shoulder. The older man didn't show much emotion on his craggy face except a particular fondness in his eyes when he looked at his friends, and, despite his car wreck of a face, Annie found herself liking the taciturn man.

The smell of tea drew her back to the kitchen and she grinned at George from the doorway.

"So, what's the doctor's name?" George said, an amused sigh slipping between his words. Annie's eyes grew wide and she hastily replayed the light conversation she'd "overheard" between the three strangers.

"Um, I-I dunno," she admitted, colour rising in her cheeks.

George picked up the prepared tea and walked past her with a humourous light in his warm blue eyes. "The American is that cute?" he teased quietly and then called ahead over Annie's indignant snort, "Right, tea for Rose and Captain Harkness."

"Please, call me Jack." Annie groaned. For that lovely leer to be directed at her, Jack'd have to see her first and that wasn't going to be happening. Well, she could at least enjoy it from the sidelines.

Annie walked back into the living room as George handed the second cup to Jack, who took it with a broad, pleasant smile, revealing perfect white teeth, and Annie gave in to the urge to pout like a spoiled seven-year-old. It was really unfair.

* * *

"So what hospital are you at, Doctor…?" George went fishing while Rose and Jack finished their tea, looking at the man leaning against the wall by the stairs.

"Not that kind of a doctor." The response was automatic, as though he was asked that often, and George nodded awkwardly.

"Ah. Yes."

He'd been asking questions as casually as he could for the last few minutes and they'd replied in friendly tones with genuine, open expressions, yet he couldn't help but feel that they were collectively throwing up a well-practiced smokescreen, fielding him with ease.

Two baffling minutes later, the Doctor straightened and said, "Lovely meeting you, George Sands, hope to see you around—we have to be off."

Jack and Rose didn't trade glances, simply mimicking the Doctor's move. Probably unconsciously, George thought, and rose from the armchair to say bye and show them to the door. Jack shook his hand with the smile that was making George increasingly uncomfortable and stepped out the door, blinking in a rare shot of sunshine and waiting for Rose behind him. She shook his hand with an infectious grin that seemed to hold back a fountain of delighted giggles and George couldn't help but smile back.

George offered his hand to the Doctor, last in line out the door, and for a strange second the man stood there, pale gaze flicking from George's eyes to his hand and back to his eyes.

"Pleasure, George Sands," he said and took his hand, mimicking the moment when they'd shaken hands not too long before. This time George noticed how cool the other man's hand was, after Jack and Rose's warm grasp.

"Doctor," he said, bobbing his head shortly. A smirk passed over the Doctor's face and his glance darted behind George.

"Nice to meet you too," he said cryptically and popped out the door, closing it after him. George's eyebrows collided and he swiveled.

Annie was frozen behind him, eyes doing their level best to burst out of her head.

"He looked right at me, George. The Doctor was talking to me."

George's body refused to move other than allowing his head turning to stare wide-eyed at the closed door.

* * *

"Doctor? Doctor! Who were you talking to?"

"There's a ghost, Rose."

The rough, Northern voice was smug, the adage "the cat who ate the canary" popping into Mitchell's head to fit the unseen man's tone. He tucked his hands deeper into his coat's pockets, hunching his shoulders against the sunlight dancing over his back, and continued to listen. Mitchell generally didn't like to eavesdrop, but "ghost" had caught his attention and he didn't recognize the voices.

"A ghost? Seriously Doc?"

"D'you mean Gelth?"

"Nope, an actual ghost. And don't call me Doc."

This was a bit more interesting than having to stay past shift end cleaning up vomit at the hospital. Mitchell's long stride ate up the pavement and he rounded the corner, the last one before home.

"I thought they didn't exist-whoa!" Mitchell jerked his head up and swiftly sidestepped a black-haired man with an American accent, who had been walking closest to the inside of the corner. The girl, Rose, young and blond, caught at the American's sleeve as he also stepped out of Mitchell's way.

"Sorry 'bout that," the American grinned sheepishly.

Mitchell nodded, accepting the brief apology. "S'alright," he said with a quick shrug. He glanced at the one member of the small group that hadn't spoken yet, the tall bloke with ears an elephant would covet. The reticent man had ice-blue eyes and they were fixed on him, sharp and seeing…_seeing_ Mitchell. He barely stopped himself from shuddering, from bristling at the stranger.

"Sorry," Mitchell said and turned his back hastily, hurrying toward the flat. He imagined he could feel the Northerner's gaze on his shoulders, although he'd heard the trio turn the corner and walk away, and his pace lengthened even more, wanting nothing more to walk inside and be home.

He slid the key into the lock and opened the door, stepping up into the entry. One foot in and one foot out, Mitchell saw George and Annie. They looked shellshocked, standing right in front of the door, staring blankly at him.

"George? Annie? What is it?" They blinked slowly, not responding, and Mitchell hurriedly closed the door.

"Guys, what happened?"


End file.
